My Ocean Wind

My ocean waits for me after it accelerates,
Flowers are aliens, amalgamating in me
As so much starch amputates the limbs of mine,
I donate this then to disorientate the few.
In this sense, a little passion is a woe to me,
Disintegrating our lives for it disassociates.
To dissipate like the sea, we elate the skies
As we evaluate the eliminations, the elongations.
I lubricate the flowers of the seed,
My luxury stands below me as a chip,
Imitating the wind of the ocean as it waits.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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